Wednesday 1 February

143 lbs. (but post unemployment), alcohol units 0, cigarettes 5, calories 350 (but it's only 8:15 a.m.).

Food consumed today:

One cinnamon donut, Market Basket brand

One coffee, Folgers with three organic sugars and organic cream

This morning, Gardner, my apartment. I like to think of myself sometimes as Bridget Jones. One part ambition, two parts irony, one part serendipity, and 3 parts incompetence, both emotional and intellectual.

But I'm not a character in a book, I don't have a weight problem, and I've finally found a Mr. Right, although we did have to work through a whole bunch of unhealthy strife and indecision before we could get to where we are today. Lucky for me, he's in it for the long haul. Seriously.

I have a job interview in three and a half hours. I'm trying to take George Clooney's advice from last night's episode of Inside the Actors Studio. I don't have a job going into the interview, and I may not have a job when I leave. The only thing left to happen is that I may get a job. You can't lose a job you don't already have. Profound, right? Well, how profound can it be if you're getting your shit from the television? But it works for me, for right now.

I won't think about the endless possibilities were I to get this job. Like finally having the opportunity to go to college. I want to learn how to write. I want to really hone my skills. Sure, I've had some informal training. My former editor and boss was perhaps the best teacher I've ever known. She always gave me the freedom to screw up, and somehow made it seem like she believed in my talent even when I gave her 750 words of absolute horse shit. She helped me turn those particular stories around. That part of my life was the best time I can remember. Hands down.

As for my health today, I'm pushing through it. I need to ignore it today, just long enough to get to the next thing. I slept well, which is more than I can say for the two nights preceding last night. I feel hopeful, which is more than I can say for a whole lot of days leading up to today. Six months ago, I could barely read because my sinus problems were affecting my eyesight. I'd write and mix up the words, then find my mistakes later and worry that I'd lost my wits. Well, they're back, if in fact they were ever gone. I'm back. Not me, as in Bridget Jones, but me the way I've always wanted to be. Sick or not sick.

I think I'm finally just fed up with everything I've had to do, only to find it's barely keeping me afloat. So I've been through the mill. Big fucking deal.

All of this is going to make me stronger. Or, it'll make me feel like a fool. I sincerely hope it's the former.